


A Few Feet Away

by Rumaan



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Confirmed Targaryen Jon, Dragon Riding Jon, Drama, F/M, Reunions, sort of romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 23:07:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7457323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumaan/pseuds/Rumaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon finds an unexpected person right under his nose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Few Feet Away

**Author's Note:**

> Anna sent me this prompt on tumblr: it's just I was reading poems and quotes and came upon this one from Scott Fitzgerald: "People disappeared, reappeared, made plans to go somewhere, and then lost each other, searched for each other, found each other a few feet away." And thought it might be perfect for Jon and Sansa. 
> 
> This prompt screamed unexpected reunion to me and as I'm a sucker for Jon meeting Sansa-as-Alayne, I went down that route. This isn't particularly romantic, but in my head it is definitely leading to romance down the line.

When Jon gained control of Rhaegal, he couldn’t help but use the dragon to try and find more of his family. He had never given up hope that his siblings – _cousins_ – would be alive. Then Lord Manderly had brought the youngest Stark, Rickon, to Winterfell from White Harbour and hope had blossomed into belief that, in time, he would be reunited with more of his family.

Rickon was no longer the little boy of three who would scamper across the courtyard, running after his older brothers and trying to join in games far too old for him. He was not just taller but more withdrawn. There was a wariness about him that cut at Jon’s heartstrings. He remained aloof from Jon, sticking to Osha’s side. However, he would always watch Jon leave Winterfell with a restrained kind of desperation as if he expected Jon never to return. Then when he did, Jon would get a small smile and Rickon would sit close to him for a day or two at meals. Jon wished he could bring Rickon back his siblings. He was sure that only with his family surrounding him would the boy allow himself to love again.

So on missions from Queen Daenerys to recruit more bannermen and armies, Jon would take detours. First in the North, where he knew from Osha that Bran had planned to go North of the Wall with the children of House Reed. The thought of his young cousin venturing past the Wall and into the land of nightmares scared Jon so hoped that somehow Bran had not made it. That, as with Rickon, he was holed up with a Northern lord until it was safe to reveal himself once more. Sadly, it did not appear to be the case. Jon never caught any whiff of Bran – only tantalising glimpses that he was alive somewhere when he would pray in front of the Heart Tree in the godswood at Winterfell.

Once the North had been secured for his aunt and House Stark, Jon had been sent south. The Vale was Jon’s special target. They were wary of the dragon riding Targaryen queen who had swept in from Essos with Unsullied and Dothraki armies at her back. There were mutterings that she was Visenya returned and so far they had proved coy about providing their vast armies for the new occupant of the Iron Throne. So Jon’s Stark looks and connections were of utmost importance. He was viewed more favourably by Vale lords like Bronze Yohn Royce and had spent the past few moons travelling to Runestone and other houses who remembered Ned Stark with favour.

During these trips down from Winterfell, he would scour the Riverlands, sure that Arya had to be there somewhere. He would gain glimpses of a large wolfpack and his heart would race, but he never found her. Disappointment would lance through him each time but he refused to give up. She wasn’t dead, he was sure of it.

Arriving at Runestone once more, Jon alighted from Rhaegal and sent him off into the nearby forest. His dragon terrified people in a way that Ghost never had – even at his direwolf’s most fierce moments.

“Lord Snow,” Lord Royce said, moving forward, his wife and oldest son at his side. “The hospitality of House Royce is at your service.”

“You are most kind, Lord Royce,” he replied politely with hope that this might be the visit that secured the Vale for Queen Daenerys.

“I have several of the Vale houses who are keen to meet with you once more.”

Jon scanned the courtyard and saw that indeed several of the lords he had met previously were there and his hopes rose.

However, it was particular face that stood out to him. She was half hidden away in the shadows at the back wearing a dress that was as drab as her hair, but it was the eyes that stood out for him. They watched him closely with the same wariness as eyes he had left this morning in Winterfell. It could not be a coincidence he was sure. He had not heard of any recent Tully bastards and everyone knew that the only offspring Lysa had managed to bring to full term was tragic little Robert Arryn, dead by the hand of Petyr Baelish. Of course, she could be a bastard of Edmure, but he was positive Lady Stark would have mentioned the presence of a Tully bastard at some point.

However, no one had heard from Sansa since she had disappeared in King’s Landing in the aftermath of the Purple Wedding. The city was a ruin now, decimated by wildfire in the war between Aegon the Pretender and Cersei Lannister, but he had still asked around when he had visited the almost deserted Red Keep. Jon had found no leads to help him track her so he had dropped his search for her for the more promising one to find Arya in the Riverlands. Had she been here in the Vale all this time? All but under his nose for the past few moons.

“Excuse me, my lord, but who is that?” Jon asked Lord Royce, pointing discretely towards the mysterious girl.

“Alayne Stone. She is Littlefinger’s bastard and was the one who testified against him when he was tried for the murder of our little Arryn lord.”

“Alayne Stone,” Jon murmured. Lord Royce sent him a searching look so he added, “She looks remarkably like someone I used to know.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Royce’s lip. “She does, doesn’t she?”

Jon was sure then that Alayne Stone was not who she claimed to be and that Lord Royce knew precisely who she was.

“Will she be involved in the talks?” he asked.

“I have invited her to attend despite the misgivings of others. I feel that she has rather a lot to contribute,” Lord Royce replied with a pointed look.

Sending another quick glance across the courtyard to where Alayne Stone continued to stand and watch him intently. He tried to send her a reassuring smile sure that she could be no one other than Sansa Stark but there was no change on her impassive face.

\----------------

Sansa waited for Jon in his chambers. Being a bastard had its plus points and being able to move around unseen was one of them. She had been amongst Lord Royce’s household since the execution of Petyr and for the first time in years she felt mostly safe. It was not ideal. She still had to pretend to be a Stone but at least Lord Royce was not using her secret against her to manipulate her. It was the best situation for now.

Then she had laid eyes on Jon Snow and it had not been as sweet as she had once dreamed. Experience had made her bitter and untrusting and she was not sure she knew who this Jon was. This Jon who rode a dragon and claimed kinship to the Targaryen queen. Had he been only Jon Snow, her bastard brother, then she was sure she would’ve rushed across the courtyard and into his arms. However, this Jon was an unknown quantity. Did he still have allegiance to House Stark or had he fully embraced the power of his father’s house?

Just thinking that had made her stomach roil. He had always been Ned Stark’s bastard and then suddenly he wasn’t. Suddenly he was a Targaryen bastard and raising the realm for Queen Daenerys and not for Winterfell.

When he had first turned up in the Vale, she had insisted Lord Royce make overtures to him. Bring him to Runestone so Sansa could observe him from afar with her bastard anonymity. She wasn’t sure that she trusted what she saw. He was more assured now. More at ease with the politics that governed the nobility. It was a far cry from the ill at ease child he had been whilst growing up. Mayhaps that was down to his role as Lord Commander or mayhaps it was because he had found a role for himself in the world now. One that was not tied to House Stark.

Over the past few moons, Sansa had sat back in the shadows and watched as Lord Royce tested Jon Snow again and again. Overall, she had liked what she had seen. There had been none of the eager ambition that she had witnessed so often in King’s Landing. None of the jumped up arrogance that newly powerful lords had displayed as they had trampled on those weaker than them. This knowledge had made her reveal her hand today. Made her watch him with the kind of intensity that was hard to ignore. She had seen the recognition flash in his eyes, seen the way he had questioned Lord Royce and seen the way he had been eager to reassure her. It boded well but experience had taught Sansa not to drop her guard too quickly.

So she had come to meet with him privately. She had decided with Lord Royce that tomorrow she should reveal her true identity. It would be her who would pledge the allegiance of the Vale army to Queen Daenerys. A show of power that Sansa Stark had brought Daenerys and more than anyone else in the realm could deliver. This would be no shattered army like the ones from the Reach or Dorne. The Vale had not spent any of its strength in the previous wars and a trueborn Stark had delivered it. Therefore, she had spent the evening stripping her hair of its dyed colour when everyone else had been feasting in the Hall.

The door eased open, the hinges creaking a little and Jon strode in with a frown on his face. It was so like the surly expression he would wear when sulking at Winterfell that she could not help the fond smile that spread across her lips. If she had needed a reminder of their connection in the past, then this was it.

His lamp caught the strands of her now bright auburn hair and he stopped halfway across the room, staring at her in shock.

“Sansa,” he whispered a little breathlessly. “I knew it was you.”

He crossed the room quickly towards her, his arms outstretched as if to pull her up into a hug.

“Jon,” she replied composedly.

Her cool tone stopped him in his tracks and his arms fell limply down towards his side and the frowned reappeared. “You don’t trust me,” he stated.

“I don’t trust anyone.”

He looked at her with sad eyes but stepped away, choosing instead to sit in the opposite chair across the fireplace. “You trust Lord Royce.”

“He has earned it.”

“How can I do the same?”

Sansa ignored the question, tilting her head instead and said, “You are here for Queen Daenerys. Your aunt.” His eyelids fluttered at that and he gave her a small nod of acknowledgement to show that he understood her test so she continued, “You hold Winterfell and the North for her.”

“Rickon holds Winterfell. I am his regent.”

With a gasp, Sansa abruptly leaned back in shock at the news. “Rickon?” she breathed.

There had been no rumours of a Stark return. No hint that a lost heir had been found. She wondered why her little brother’s return had been kept so quiet.

“He is not ready,” Jon said quietly, answering her unspoken question. “Daenerys recognises him as Lord Stark and he holds Winterfell, but he is not ready to undertake the duties of ruling the North so I do it for him. I have never felt the need to advertise this. I don’t want people to presume he is weak once he is ready.”

The anxiety that had been holding her rigid for the past few moons as she had tried to analyse Jon from afar rushed away as she heaved a massive sigh. All her fears that he had somehow proved her lady mother right and looked to step into his trueborn family’s shoes dissipated and she felt lighter than she had since her father had been arrested.

She was with family again. Someone who didn’t care for her because of what she could offer or out of a sense of duty to her station but because of who _she_ was. And he did care. It was written all over his face.

“I looked for you,” he stated.

“What? When?”

“When I first went to King’s Landing or what remains of it with Dany. I tried to find a lead but there was nothing.”

“Petyr snuck me out via ship. He killed the only other person who knew his plans at court,” she said with a hitch in her voice as she remembered Dontos Hollard. He had been a drunken fool who had been paid well for his role by Baelish. But he had been a lifeline for her when all else had seemed so bleak. A sob crowded up her throat and escaped past her tightly pressed together lips. She clapped her hands over her mouth, not wanting to appear weak, but her eyes betrayed her. They welled up with tears that spilled over and down her cheeks.

Jon was up and out of his chair, kneeling in front of her. He grasped her hands and brought them away from her mouth and down into her lap. With his free hand, he wiped away her tears. “You don’t have to hide from me, Sansa. You don’t have to keep your emotions so tightly in check.”

“I don’t know how else to be,” she confessed. “It has been so long since I could show my correct feelings.”

His fingers gripped her tightly and she clung to the security they gave her. “With me you can be free,” Jon said. “No one can hurt you now.”

“Father thought he could protect me. He couldn’t,” she stated starkly.

“Father didn’t have a dragon. I will feed anyone who attempts to hurt you to Rhaegal.”

She gave a weak laugh at his joke – it was pathetic but it had the desired effect of releasing her tension. Jon could not promise that she would never be hurt again, but with his words he had promised that he would protect her to the best of his ability. That meant something to Sansa. And she could help protect him. Make sure that he was not weakened through his connection to his aunt.

“I have raised the Vale for you,” she said. “I will declare it tomorrow.”

“So that’s the reason for your hair. I had hoped that was for me.”

“Did you need that?”

“No,” he said with a smile. “I just had to look into your eyes and I knew who you were. Queen Daenerys will be pleased.”

“I didn’t do it for her. I did it for you. I just wanted to know if you were worthy or not first.”

“I’m glad I passed your test,” he said but there was no sting to it. No bitterness. She could not help but be relieved that he understood her need to protect herself.

However, she couldn’t help but test him one last time. “I plan to travel North with the army.”

“With the army?” he queried and her heart sank. He didn’t want her to return to Winterfell. He didn’t need her as he already had his Stark heir. Her hands went limp within his and she turned her face away. Then he added quietly, “I had hoped you bring you home with me.”

With his words, her spirits soared once more and her head whipped back to his. There was a rueful expression on his face as he realised how his words had been interpreted. “I have no plans to leave you here, Sansa. Not now I know where you are.”

“I should not have doubted you.”

“I do not think you have had much reason to trust for years now.”

“No,” she replied baldly.

“You can trust me.”

She leaned towards him, smiling warmly. “I know,” she replied simply

Returning her smile, Jon squeezed her fingers again. “Come home, Sansa. Come home with me.”

Her soul rejoiced at the thought. Home to Winterfell. Home with Jon.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me over at [tumblr](http://rumaan.tumblr.com/) if you so wish.


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